It has indeed been a long time since he has felt like this. Tired, so very, very tired. Useless as well. He feels that the effort of lifting his own hand in the traditional ta'al is going to snap his arm in two different sections and it frustrates him to no end.
Sarek, patient, wonderful Sarek can read his thoughts without trying to, and lets his fingers grace his wrinkled forehead and a warm wave of prideloveheartbreak rushes inside of him. Soothes his aching muscles in ways no healer could.
Their eyes meet.
"You must not feel so sad, father," he whispers, trying to smile. Sarek shakes his head.
"Sadness is an emotion," he replies, his eyes downcast.
On his other side, Sybok snorts.
"A parent cannot help but feel despair at the thought of surviving one's own child, no matter how logical said event is when your child is almost twice one's own age," he says with a bitter smile, his own hand unconsciously tucking his white hair behind a pointed ear.
He can only feel grateful. At least one of them can still smile.
"I'm glad you are here," he says breathily, his tongue feeling heavy on his mouth.
"It's the least I could do," Sybok replies. "I would always be here for you, I promised, remember?"
He doesn't.
This smiling, caring Vulcan is an exact copy of his own beloved brother, yet the promise he cherishes so ardently is not the one he heard in his youth.
"Don't go, brother!" he cried, reaching with his hand as his older brother, his hero, took his bag and walked to the door.
The older young man turned then to him, eyes dark and defeated.
"You are too young, too fragile in your youth, you cannot come with me, Spock," he said coldly. "You would only be a liability."
It was the first time in his life he felt the ache of rejection. It wouldn't be the last one.
"I always wanted to make a difference," he says suddenly, wondering what it must feel like for his family to watch him like this and not be able to shed a tear. He sends a silent 'thank you' to his mother because it is through her that he can grieve so humanly. An outlet that he has come to believe most Vulcans are envious of.
Despite how illogical it is.
His father looks into his eyes and he knows he is looking into the chocolate depths and remembering his mother. He understands the feeling, as he spent so many years looking into Peter Kirk's eyes and regretting his choices.
He knows he can never hate the man.
"You have disgraced my house and the honor of our ancestors," Sarek spat, eyes furious while his hands clenched behind his back. Spock growled in defiance, ignoring the way his mother looked at him, so sad, so torn, and taking his own traveling bag, just like Sybok did before him.
"Then it is only logical you remove the disgrace from your home, father," he snapped, striding towards the door as gracefully as he can when he feels his heart about to break.
"You are not my son," his father hissed, retiring to his room.
"Sarek!" his mother gasped, her hands covering her mouth. "Spock, son, please reconsider, he will come around and…"
"Goodbye mother," he interrupted, kissing her forehead and leaving the house he had considered his home for most of his life. He made a decision and he had to honor it. He had to go to Earth.
If he shed a tear or two on the way, then it was due to the sand on his eyes and not the human part of his heart shattering into pieces at his feet. He couldn't feel betrayal from a father that always felt shame for him.
"I thought you hated me, for so many years," he says, and gasps when Sarek shakes his head and leans in to touch his cheek to his own.
"You brought me nothing but pride," his father says. "I believe there has never been a happier father than myself, since the moment I held you in my arms as you were born and you shocked the council by your quite human crying to the time you decided to come home and help us, despite the wishes of your heart for some other company."
He feels blood rushing to his ashen face.
"Father could always read the both of us as if we were… unprotected PADDs?" Sybok musses amusedly. Spock can only smile back.
"I believe the term is 'open books', brother," he says, raising an eyebrow. Sybok blinks.
"Who in their right mind would leave an antic as precious as a book open?" he asks. Spock wants to laugh.
Sarek rolls his eyes.
"It is a human figure of speech, son," he explains. "Logic does not apply to them."
"Of course," Sybok grins.
Spock feels happiness at the thought that, at least in this reality Sybok came back home, and his father learnt to forgive both his wayward sons and they can really be a family, even when the hole Amanda left in their household will never be filled.
"I'm sorry I couldn't save you," he says to the two of them, feeling the words bursting from his lips. Sarek shakes his head.
"It is illogical to ask for forgiveness for things that were never your fault, son," he says. Sybok rolls his eyes.
"I forgive you," he says gently. "You did your best, but ambition had driven me mad. Nothing could have saved me by then."
Sarek huffs silently.
Spock smiles at his older brother.
The other Vulcan knows he needs to hear those words.
He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling his heart lightened by the tight familiar bond he feels.
When he opens his eyes once more the room is dark and his father and brother are gone, and a cooling breeze comes through the window. He wants to know how long he has slept but his mind is so tired his infamous sense of time and space deserts him. He tries to reach for his PADD, but a young, smooth hand stops him.
Spock feels the air leave his lungs in a rush.
"Hey," he hears that familiar, that achingly familiar voice whisper in the darkness. "Don't move, it's midnight."
His old heart starts beating so powerfully on his chest, his blood sings and there is his accustomed ache when his eyes meet the silhouette sitting on his bed.
"Jim?" he whispers. Oh, there has never been such a sweeter word.
"Lights, fifteen percent," Jim orders and Spock wants to stop him, wants to keep pretending like he does sometimes when the young man comes to visit him. When he avoids looking into those bright blue eyes that only remind him he is so far away from his real home.
He remains silent, however, when honey and gold and sun eyes meet his own.
"Hello, old friend," Jim says gently, that small nervous smile on his beautiful face.
Spock is nervous and angry as he enters the bridge. He knows it is only logical for Captain Pike to be replaced, and he knows the new Captain is a capable young man, an impressive officer and a great asset to the ship.
Yet he cannot help the bitterness.
Captain Pike remains on Earth, grounded for life while Starfleet celebrates the youngest Captain in their history.
James Tiberius Kirk, age thirty one.
He expects a cocky and self-assured brat he will have to beat into shape.
He finds his other half in those soulful hazel eyes that pierce his own and almost melts when those tantalizing lips twist into a nervous smile.
"Hi, I'm James Kirk, please call me Jim," he said then, twisting that admirable spirit and binding his own heart into it. "Please be patient with me, I know I will never be as great as Captain Pike, but I will try my best. Can I count with you for that?"
He can't help but raise an eyebrow and say:
"I do not see the need to require my help to do something as trivial as counting, considering all supplies are already accounted for," he suppresses the childish pleasure he feels when the new Captain's eyes widen. "However I shall offer my assistance in anything you might need, Captain Kirk."
Silence filled the bridge, all officers stared at him, shocked.
Kirk suddenly laughed.
"It is a pleasure to know that the rumors are mistaken and that you do have a sense of humor, Mr. Spock," he said, shrugging. "I'm sure we'll become good friends."
Spock did not nod, but felt such an illogical rush of hope at such words.
He has never been called a friend before.
Jim stares at him, young, beautiful, the same he looked that wonderful first meeting. His golden uniform shines under the dim light. Spock feels happiness so great he doesn't think he can prevent himself from exploding.
"I thought I would never see you again," he whispers reverently, and feels more alive than he has felt in years when his own persona sun god just gives a throaty chuckle.
"Silly Vulcan," he says simply. "I came for you."
"For me?" he asks breathlessly.
"You've done so much, Spock, too much," Jim says in that beautifully childish way that clashes perfectly with his too mature eyes and creates a wonderful harmony. How he has missed him. "You put others before yourself, you loved, you lived and now I think it's time you think about yourself."
"Myself…" he repeats.
He was not sure why he came to that home or what he thought he would find in there. The beautiful woman holding an infant in her arms while another stands stoically by her side is not what he expected, however.
"Spock," she said softly, her hand slowly running through the baby's fine black hair. "To what occurrence do I owe this visit?"
"T'Pring," he greeted back, entranced by the way her eyes had grown wiser and her hair now curled gently against her shoulders. Gone was the cold and regal lady he thought he would marry one day. "I came to inquire after your health."
T'Pring nodded, letting him in. Her home was a small one, compared to the one they both thought they would live in, yet there is something about it, a quiet calm air that made him think it fit her, somehow.
"Starik, do fetch some tea for our guest," she said, a touch of an odd gentleness in her voice. The little boy nodded and swiftly went to the kitchen. "Do take a seat, I am to believe that you must appreciate the rest after your journey."
"I am afraid I do not have much time," he said, though he sat down nonetheless. His hands nervously resting on his knees.
"You were never one to delay a conversation," she sighed. "Do explain then, what can I do for you?"
Spock felt something thick on his throat. He thought he would never see his old childhood friend again. After her rejection there was no logical reason for them to meet. Yet here he is, knowing she is the only one who knows him intimately enough to help him sort out the dilemma that distress him.
He started talking then, without really understanding how the words can pour out without thought or control, how those words could pass through the knot on his stomach.
Illogical thoughts like those plagued him for weeks.
He told her of his life on the Enterprise beyond the reports and press. Of the dangers, the adventures, the family he had slowly crafted for himself. He told her of Jim and the many times he risked his own life for his First Officer, of how he knew his Captain would do so over and over again.
Then he told her of Janice Lester and how she had switched her own body with Jim's. How they'd thought Jim would stay forever in that weakened female form.
"You must have felt his distress," she commented, laying the baby in her arms to sleep. He nodded.
"I felt desperation. I did not know how to prevent Jim's demise," he admitted, surprised when he felt no shame. It had been such a long time since he had felt regret when he expressed his regards towards Captain Kirk.
"Yet, it is not the reason you came to me," she said. "Am I correct in assuming something about the situation has kept you upset, regardless of its outcome?"
Spock nodded.
"Once the situation was resolved and Dr. Lester was sent away, I felt relief, as it was logical. Jim's life had been saved once more," he paused, swallowing. "Yet, I also experienced regret."
"Regret?" she asked, confused.
"For a second I thought that should Jim remain as a female, I would have spent my life taking care of her," he admitted.
"Then you regretted the lost opportunity for a mate," she surmised. "That the fact that he has gone back to being a male has robbed you of that opportunity."
Spock's eyes widened.
"No, of course not," he said. "Jim is my most treasured friend. I only had his best interest in mind. I…"
"Spock," T'Pring interrupted. "I shared your mind for half of our lives and I know you even better than maybe you know yourself. The moment I saw the bond you and your Captain shared, I knew I would never be enough for you, just as you would never fulfill me the way Stonn does."
"You certainly do not imply that I…" he stopped, not sure how to continue.
"That you love your Captain more than a close friend?" she asked. "That you felt he could be yours as he was a female? That even subconsciously you wanted him as your mate, and for him to give you children? Yes, I believe it is exactly what I imply."
"Surely you jest," Spock tried to say as confidently as he could. Knowing he had failed miserably the moment T'Pring's eyes narrowed.
"You know I do not enjoy the human humor, Spock, do not take me for a fool," she said. "You came here because you don't understand yourself, you came here because you wanted me to explain this to you. Thus, I am explaining what I see. The moment you boarded the Enterprise under Captain Kirk's command, your life stopped being your own. I must admit I am… happy, for you."
"I do not understand."
"You do understand, Spock," she said. "Yet you refuse to admit it, even to yourself. You are content in this life of yours simply because that human now holds you heart. You feel pain when he becomes injured and despair when you are the cause of said injuries, you want to see him smile and be by his side at all times, yet you respect his need for privacy. You want to embrace his body and share his mind, yet you feel fright at the thought of letting him see the parts of you that shame you."
"How could you possibly know that…"
T'Pring silenced him with a raised eyebrow and certain warmth in her usually icy eyes.
"I would have mocked you, had you come to me four years earlier and told me so," she admitted with a sigh. "But I guess I cannot, for I feel the same about Stonn. I understand now that while our emotions are deep and dangerous, they are also the ones that bring meaning to our lives, just as logic brings the way for us to express them."
Spock stared at T'Pring in shocked silence and found himself remembering his old friend instead of the woman that had rejected him in the throes of Pon Farr. Her gentle eyes were the same that had stared at him when they were young. Her soft voice was the same whispery one of their childhood.
He felt… happy, that he had gotten her back.
"I will meditate about what you have told me today, my friend," he said, standing up.
"Do not close yourself to the possibility of it, Spock," she said as she led him to the door. "Not many humans would risk their lives for a Vulcan, therefore it is only logical I believe that Captain of yours feels the same way about you."
Spock shook his head, knowing his friend only expressed what humans liked to call 'wishful thinking'. He desperately wanted to believe her.
He never spoke to her again.
"I do not think I know how to live for myself, Jim," Spock whispered, reaching with his hand to touch the golden sleeve closes to him. So familiar, so warm was the cloth. As if a living, breathing human was wearing it instead of the amazing apparition before him.
"I will teach you then, from now on…" Jim urges gently, his smile still in place. "Your elders believe it is only logical to keep your katra after your passing."
"It is indeed logical as my knowledge would be of great assistance to the colony.
"Do you want that?" Jim asks. Spock frowns.
"I told you it is only logical."
"Logical, yet… would you rather remain there, as a testimony and guide for future generations, or you'd rather soar the skies again?"
Spock thinks about it. He has to admit he has never been happiest than the time he was exploring with the rest of the crew, the things he learnt, the planets he saw. Nothing compares to that rush of excitement and curiosity.
"I do not know," he admits. "My people need me."
"You need your happiness," Jim replies calmly. Suddenly the warm arms that Spock has fantasized about for years are enveloping him and those hands guide his head to rest on Jim's strong chest. He smells of stardust and cinnamon and all the things Spock has come to love. "You are allowed to be selfish for once, Spock. Do what feels right."
The rush of emotions is so powerful. The familiar feeling of Jim's skin. The faint happiness and sadness and despair he can feel coming from him, his warmth, his voice, his beautiful eyes. All assaults Spock until he can feel something wet sliding down his cheek and he realizes he is crying.
He hasn't cried since the day he lost Jim for the second time. Since the day he knew he had not been there to hold his beloved's hand as he let out his last breath.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you," he chokes, feeling pathetic and weak and wanting so much for his mind to be more lucid, more awake so he can ask for a last mindmeld, a last joining of their souls.
"Don't apologize," Jim whispers sadly. "I told you I was going to die alone. I had no regrets and I don't want you to have them either."
"I love you, I always loved you and… all the wasted time."
"There is no time wasted, Spock, there never was… I was by your side and it made me happy."
The tears keep rolling down his cheeks while Jim's calloused fingers caress his ears, his neck. His mind sings with the beauty of that soul. Of the faint recognition his weakened telepathy can grasp.
"I want to go with you, Jim," he says hoarsely, finally giving into the impulses he has tried to keep quiet even to himself for years. "I want my soul to finally join yours in space, so we can keep exploring, keep learning…"
"Keep loving…" Jim sobs and there are tears pooling in his own eyes. Spock wants to wipe them away with his fingers but he doesn't have the strength. His body is so tired, so desperately cold. "Let's go back to the stars, Spock. I've been waiting for you."
Spock nods slowly, closing his eyes. Under his ear Jim's heartbeat echoes steadily. The pain of his feelings almost stings Spock's fingers. Jim is sad to see him die, Jim is relieved he is so peaceful now.
"Let's go then, Captain," he whispers. "Though I must admit I do have one last selfish request from you before we leave."
"Anything you want, old friend," Jim says, nodding.
"Smile one last time, for me?" he pleads, trying to grasp the last of his strength to keep his eyes open just a few more seconds. Now that he has accepted his own wishes, his own selfish and wonderful fate, he is slowly letting go.
Jim's tears start to slid down his golden skin and a sound swallow makes his Adam's apple bob twice. Slowly his lips turn upwards and that smile Spock has loved for so many years, the one he has yearned for his whole life is illuminating that beloved face. It's the same smile that the younger Jim from this reality has, though on that youthful face with those baby blue eyes, it was a painful reminded.
He wished he had told Jim how beautiful that smile was.
"T'hy'la… let's go…" Spock whispers, sending one last, silent goodbye to his family, to his counterpart who must be sleeping on his quarters on the Enterprise, to the younger Jim he wishes the best of lucks.
He knows he and his own Spock will save each other from their loneliness, just like Jim saved him over and over again. Even now on his deathbed, Jim is here to make sure he does not go alone.
With a sigh, he closes his eyes and lets himself go, he knows Jim is there.
He is happy.
Jim closes his eyes the moment he knows the old Vulcan stopped breathing. The moment he feels his go limp in his arms.
He doesn't need confirmation.
He knows Spock is dead.
"Go to him, old man," he sobs, cradling the body to himself and finally crying the heartbreaking sobs he has been trying to hide for the last hour. "Go to your Captain, he is waiting for you."
The door opens silently and Sarek and his son Sybok enter slowly, their eyes set on Spock's lifeless body. Sarek nods, sitting by Jim's side on the bed while Sybok takes a small tissue and starts wiping the tears from the human's face.
The same tears that are now stained a murky brown as his reddened eyes lose the artificial pigmentation he has worn today and slowly return to their usual Terran sky blue.
"He left happily, feeling his T'hy'la had come for him," Sybok said, caressing Jim's shaking head. "You do not have to feel guilt over this. You gave him the one thing none of us could have ever given him. You gave him hope."
Jim nods, still rocking the body.
"He was the first one to ever see me as if I was something special, as if I was worth something more than just my father's son and I… I wanted him to die happy. I didn't want him to be alone when he finally…" he choked, shaking his head. "But I didn't want to lie to him."
"Captain Kirk," Sarek says. "Please do not experience regrets, you made my son happy."
"But…"
Suddenly a shadow bursts into the room and pulls the sobbing human into its own arms, cradling his face into a strong chest and caressing his heaving back.
"Captain, do cry at your leisure, it is, after all, the first time you have been able to say goodbye to someone you held dear."
Jim nods and continues to cry, hiding his face on a strong shoulder and ignoring the other Vulcans in the room.
"Spock, he was so happy, he was smiling and happy and I… I didn't want to let him go."
Spock nods, his young face, so alike the peaceful one now dead on Jim's lap, twists with sadness as he cradles the human that has become so precious to him. He bids his own goodbye to his older counterpart, the one to lead him to the wonder that is Jim Kirk and silently swears to protect this happiness, this fragile happiness the older Vulcan wanted him to have.
It will be his way of honoring elder Spock.
His eyes meet his brother's and his father's and reflect his condolences. He cannot imagine what they are feeling, as they have lost him and yet not at the same time. He wants them to know he is still here, yet his eyes immediately stray towards the shadows on the room where he can swear he sees his own face staring back at him with a small smile. Just as the figure of Jim materializes by his side, also smiling.
'Thank you,' the other Jim mouths to him and both illusions disappear.
He shakes his head, feeling his own need to smile.
He will hold and comfort Jim the rest of the night and make sure he treasures his T'hy'la, just like his counterpart did once and will keep doing for all eternity.
The End.